The Ever Loving Cliche
by Aero thru the Anarchy
Summary: A one-shot exploring Gemma's relationships with Clay and John in 89' before the death of Thomas - Summary sucks, story is better, please review if you would like to see more of these kinds of things.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Full credit goes to Kurt Sutter and the amazing writing team. This is NOT based on any real life events or people and is completely a work of fiction.**

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Charming was a sleepy town just nine short years ago. After Gemma Teller came back home with a baby on her hip, a husband on her arm, and a biker gang trailing close behind, things had never been the same. It was a cool day in late September, the schools were running, people at work.

Gemma and John were emotionlessly fucking. Her on top, neither of them enjoying it, doing it simply because it was what you did. The past few years had killed their love completely. John spent months at a time in Ireland. Gemma was slowly falling in love with Clay.

"I'm fucking done." Gemma spoke harshly, jumping off of the bed. She couldn't take it any longer.

"Shit. Come on. What the fuck is this?" John yelled back at his wife.

"Don't even act like that was fun for you. I hate you here. You hate it here. Just stay in Ireland with your whore." She yelled in reply. Surprisingly it was not out of jealousy. She no longer wanted him, all they did was fight.

"Why? So you can fuck Clay? You're a lot of things Gemma but a cliche was never one of them. The the wife and the best friend. Come on baby this ain't your style." John had accepted the betrayal. It was obvious, they couldn't keep their eyes off each other. But he was in love with Maureen Ashby, a beautiful, smart, blonde he met in Ireland. She was pregnant, it was his.

"You arn't around enough to know what the fuck's going on!" She ran towards him, hitting and punching. They fought, he would hit her back, hard. After a solid 5 minutes he left, slamming the door, and hopping on his bike.

Gemma was hurt, face bloodied and puffy. Aching from head to toe. The house was a wreck but she felt too light headed to care. She layed down and passed out after a few minutes.

Five year old Thomas crept from his bedroom about an hour later, to see what had happened. He found Gemma sleeping, and tried to wake her, she wouldn't wake up. Just then he heard the door open, it was Jax.

"Jax help!" Thomas squealed at his eleven year old brother.

"What is it?" Jax enquired, placing his backpack on the table. It was 5:00, he had detention after school and had walked home.

"Mommy! She and daddy had a fight!" Thomas blurted.

Jax quickly walked to find Gemma passed out, after a few yells and a shake. She woke up. "Shit ma. What the fuck happened?" Jaxson asked

"Don't curse. Jaxson I'm fine, I just need to rest." She kissed Jax and Thomas, grabbed a bottle of whisky from the kitchen, and fell back asleep.

Jax knew better than to argue. He decided to wait an hour to see if she got up.

An hour passed and she was still dead asleep. He grabbed her phone and called his Uncle Clay.

"Hey gorgeous." Clay answered seeing Gemma's name on his phone.

"Uncle Clay? It's Jax. Mom and dad got in a fight and mom's been sleeping, and I think shes hurt." Jax spoke quickly.

"Shit. I'll be over in a few minutes. Can you grab Thomas and go to Opie's house for the night?" Clay knew it would be a hard night. Gemma struggled from anxiety, she would go into panic attacks, he was the only one who could calm her down.

Clay arrived at 6:45. The old brick style house reeked of booze and smoke. There was broken glass, trash, and clothes scattered around the kitchen and living room. As he walked towards her bedroom the mess got worse. He opened the door to find Gemma passed out on the bed, bloodied and broken. She was always so strong, but now she seemed so weak. She was shaking, still grasping the bottle of whisky.

He strode over to the broken queen. "Gemma. Gemma baby you need to wake up." After multiple shakes, she did. Gemma lurched up, screaming and hyperventilating.

Clay's large hands grabbed her face. "Gemma baby, it's okay. He's gone, just breath. In… Out… in… out." His deep voice coaxed her to calm down.

He pulled the blankets over her and turned starting to walk out to change. "No! Don't leave me!" She screamed, he was the only thing keeping her sane.

"Easy darling. I'm just gonna change into pajamas so I can crash here with you." Clay cocked his head looking into her deep brown eyes. He was staying here for him, just as much as for her. If he left, John would never see another sunrise. Gemma and John had always fought, but this time was different, the physical damage was horrible, but worse it had left her mentally broken.

He changed in the room, stripping down to boxers and an undershirt. He walked to the other side of the bed, pulling the woman he loved into his arms. Gemma's face went into his muscular chest, the sobbing began.

After 10 minutes, Clay grabbed her face. "You need to tell me what happened." She retold the story in excruciating detail.

When she was finished she chanced looking into his eyes. Just from one glance, she knew if he left the house tonight, he would kill John Teller. As much as she hated her husband, she could not be responsible for his death, not yet at least. They slid back under the blankets, her body contoured to his, her head on his chest, one leg over both of his. His muscular arms wrapped around her petite body, just holding her, absorbing her warmth. They fell asleep, not knowing what tomorrow would bring.


End file.
